Page 52 of Burn for Her
Why was she even in this damn car?
“Welcome to Maison de la Morts, Lena.” The blond smiled.
The House of Death. How perfectly named, she thought. Dorian slipped his hand around her bicep and she jerked away from his touch. “I’m not going to run off,” she growled. “No need to manhandle me.”
“I’m not manhandling you.” His gaze never wavered. “I’m escorting you in.”
The blond grabbed her other arm, and the two men looked serious. Dead serious. Like the kind of serious you saw on a cop’s face when they arrested you for fighting in an illegal ring and didn’t want to hear your excuses. Not that she’d ever seen that look. Ahem.
“I’m Lucian, by the way,” the blond said as they went up the steps.
“Lena.” She didn’t know what else to say right now. Her heart kept fluttering in her throat, and her palms were sweaty. She had zero desire to fight or fly and that worried her. She was literally walking into a house, restrained by two men, and was going willingly.
There was something deranged about her. This proved it. She was in worse shape than she thought, damnit.
“Lena McKay. Twenty-eight. Heir to the McKay resort fortune, with two prior arrests, a knack for spotting good investments, and you have an allergy to strawberries.”
She halted and glared at Lucian. “H-how do you know all that about me? None of that’s in my file at the club.”
“I never looked at your file, sweetheart. I looked online and found everything I needed to know about you so Dorian could find you.”
Her instinct to run rushed her. “What do you mean so Dorian could find me?”
“You’re his mate. We covered this already,” Victoria snipped as she swung open the door and held it for them to go through. “Want me to take her so you can talk to the King?”
“She’s not leaving my sight.” Dorian’s grip tightened on her arm.
“I’ll go,” Lucian said. “Victoria, you contain the others. Keep them away until we can sort this shit out.”
“Fine.”
Lena had no clue what was going on, but when she refused to budge, Dorian’s aggression got worse, and he ended up carrying her up to a room. He moved so fast Lena barely saw anything in the house that wasn’t a blur. When he set her down and slammed the door shut, he dropped to his knees, gasping for air.
Part of her wanted to run while he was weak enough to not chase after her. But she wasn’t a runner. She stayed where she was because something about this entire situation felt strangely right to be in. Lena had the same reaction when she joined her little fight club too.
Her tone remained soft as she asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
Lena bent down to put her hand on his shoulder. He swiftly caught it, “Never touch my shoulder from the side or behind.”
“Oooookay.”
When she tried to pull back, Dorian wouldn’t let go of her hand. “I’m a little undone, Lena. When one of my kind sees their mate for the first time, it… does things to us.”
“Yeah, about that, I’m still confused. I’m telling you right now, that cliché doesn’t fly with me. Whatever this is, be a little more creative with it because mates and veneer fangs and gothic mansions are great for tourists, but—”
Dorian let go of her hand and rocked back on his ass. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot.
“Should I call a doctor or something for you? Tell me what I’m supposed to do. You’re scaring me.”
He cringed and licked his chapped lips. “Everyone’s scared of me… should have known you’d be no different.”
“I’m not scared of you.” She squatted down as best she could in her dress. “I’m scared for you. Your face is pale, and your eyes keep doing weird things. And the fact that I even care is scary too. I don’t know you.”
“You do.” The register of his voice dropped. “Deep down… you do know me.” He reached out and cupped the side of her face. “I wish I could explain all this in a way that won’t make me sound crazy.”
“Try.” She pulled away from him again. Every time he touched her, Lena’s body blazed, and her mind got fuzzier. It was messing with her head, big time, and she needed her wits to be sharp to get out of this mess.